


Blood on My Bathroom Floor

by EthelwynSutcliffTognini



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Gen, Hurt Number Five | The Boy, Hurt/Comfort, Number Five | The Boy Needs A Hug, Protective Diego Hargreeves, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, rescue attempt gone wrong, trying to be spooky but we'll see how that goes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:06:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27325516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EthelwynSutcliffTognini/pseuds/EthelwynSutcliffTognini
Summary: Something's wrong.Everyone is fine. Luther is snoring. Alison and Vanya are asleep. Ben is sleeping over in Klaus's room, both of them passed out and peaceful, and Diego can't find a source for his unease.Except for the bloody footprints leading down the hall.But those are just a dream. There's no reason for them to be real.
Relationships: Diego Hargreeves & Everyone, Number Five | The Boy & Diego Hargreeves
Comments: 10
Kudos: 166





	1. Chapter 1

Something rattled against his slippered feet, and Diego blinked, frowning. He reached for the towel, finding it even in the dark of the moon-lit bathroom, and dried off his hands before flicking the light switch. The bulb above the sink blinked on and Diego winced, trying to adjust to the change.

It took him a couple moments to find the bottle of aspirin on cold tiles. Maybe Klaus had knocked it on the floor?

He set it back on the counter and then reached for the switch. He didn’t need light to find his way back to his room.

Wait.

Was that blood on the floor?

Diego rubbed at his eyes, trying to clear away the fogginess of sleep. 

There were five bloody footprints on the bathroom floor. Two in the middle of the room, side by side, just the imprint of a set of toes, and then three steps leading up to the bare wall.

“What the hell?”

He squatted to poke a finger at the marks on the floor. His finger came back wet with red.

Diego shook his head. There was no more trail, to, or from the prints.

Maybe he was still sleeping?

That was no good, cause if this was a dream then he still needed to wake up for a piss.

Figuring that it was best to return to his bed and start over, Diego stepped over the footprints and let himself out of the bathroom. The window at the top of the stairs cast some light along the length of the hall. Diego squinted up and down the floor. 

Were there any other footprints?

He scratched at the imprint where his pajama elastic bit into his waist and wandered down the hallway. It wasn’t easy to see much against the dark of the wood, but halfway along, a reflection of moonlight on liquid stopped him.

Diego crouched down and ran his fingers through the thick red substance. He’d been a member of the Umbrella Academy too long to mistake it for anything other than blood. Even the smell was familiar. 

There were several more footprints here. A trail of ten or eleven steps, before they vanished again.

How strange. 

They were between Klaus’ room and the stairs up to the third floor, but not close enough for the steps to be going or coming from either place. 

Diego trailed up the stairs, but there were no footprints all the way up. He almost turned around, but the scent of iron drew him further. He shuffled along until a muddled patch of marks made him stop in front of Vanya’s bedroom door. Diego leaned forward and rested his forehead on her door for a minute, letting the grain press into his skin, and blinking until he felt a little more certain he was awake. 

He almost called out as he pushed her door open. Could Vanya be in trouble? But there she was, safe in bed, the white of her face cut short by heavy bangs and a quilt pulled up to her chin. Diego slipped in closer until he could see the rise and fall of her chest, and peer into the dark corners of the room. No one was inside. 

No footprints.

“Damn.” 

Now he was awake and annoyed. 

Luther was snoring so loud it was clear that he was fine. Allison had always been a light sleeper, and all Diego had to do was crack the door open to see his sister flip over and fold a pillow over her head. Klaus slept like the dead, draped off the side of his bed, his messy bangs fluttering with each breath and waving silently at Diego. Ben was in the same room, curled up on the weird futon Klaus had dragged home from a flea market. Diego bent down to shift the books that scattered across Ben’s legs. He must crept in after lights out, or Dad would have pitched a fit. 

The door to Five’s room was open, as it always was now. 

There was no one inside. 

The room was cold and still as always.

Diego let himself back into his room and dropped to the bed. He pulled the thick duvet over his head let the heat settle in around him.

Bloody footsteps on the floor?

Steps that led nowhere and came from nothing?

It sounded like a story Klaus would tell.

Diego curled further into his blankets.

The dark closed in and pushed silly footsteps further away.

A thought had been rattling in his brain for long enough to finally float into place as Diego drifted in a cloud of drowsiness. He knew this pattern. They all knew this pattern. 

He seen it in snow, in mud, in marks of spilled paint when they were very young and not yet fully cowed by their monster of a father. 

Footprints and then no footprints.

Running steps, a burst of blue, and then Diego fell asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

_Three hours earlier._

“You can’t stop me.”

It didn’t come out with quite the amount of force that he wanted, but Five was proud of keeping the slur from his words.

“Once again your arrogance has put you in an untenable position, Number Five.”

The voice came from behind him, but even if he’d had the strength to lift his head, Five wouldn’t have turned to look. Reginald Hargreaves didn’t deserve the attention.

“You have bitten off more than you can chew. It’s hard for me to believe you even had a plan, jumping into the Academy after a year and a half’s absence, and expecting your siblings to abandon their posts just because of your childish tantrum.”

Five swallowed down a swell of nausea. The words didn’t affect him. He wouldn’t let them. He couldn’t control the tremors that wracked his body and made his bare wrists and ankles rattle against the cold metal of the chair, but he did control his reaction to Reginald’s harsh evaluation. “I don’t care what you believe. I’m here for them, not you.”

Finally, Reginald came around the front of the chair where Five could see him. If there was any emotion on his face, it was mild curiosity. “Where did you go?”

He was close enough. Five could have put all his force into the iron bands around his chest and probably reached far enough to bite Reginald. But there was no strength in him at all. He was drained and still expending non-existent energy in the endless shaking of chilled limbs. So, he bared his teeth and snarled, dreaming of the blood that would spray if he ever got away from the burn of an artificially induced fever. 

“You’ll tell me, eventually,” Reginald sighed. “It’s not a matter of patience or endurance, Number Five. I have all the time, and you are dependent on the limitations of your body. How long can you run on a complete absence of fuel?”

_Longer than you know._

_As long as it takes._


End file.
